“Come,” invited the engineer.

He called one of the wipers down from amid the sliding shafts and moving machinery.  The man came unhesitatingly.

Frank took a square look at this man, who did not seek to avoid inspection.

“Never saw him before,” confessed Merry.

The wiper was dismissed.

“Hackett,” called the engineer.

The other wiper did not seem to hear.  He pretended to be very busy, and kept at work.

“Hackett!”

He could not fail to hear that.  He kept his face turned away, but answered: 

“Yes, sir.”

“Come here.  I want you.”

The wiper hesitated.  Then he turned and slowly approached.  His face was besmeared till scarcely a bit of natural color showed, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes.  He shambled forward awkwardly, and stood in an awkward position, with his eyes cast down.

Frank looked at him closely and started.  Then, in a perfectly calm manner, but with a trace of triumph in his voice, he declared: 

“This is the fellow who did the job!”

CHAPTER IX.

In irons.

“What?” cried the engineer, in astonishment.

“How do you know?” asked the engineer’s assistant, incredulously.

“That’s it—­how do you know?” demanded the engineer.  “You said you did not see the person who attacked you.”

“I did not.”

“Yet you say this is the man.”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I know him.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“You have seen him before?”

“I should say so, on several occasions.  He is one of my bitterest enemies.  This is not the first time he has tried to kill or injure me.  He has made the attempt many times before.  He is the only person here who would do such a thing.”

“If this is true,” said the engineer, grimly, “he shall pay dearly for his work!”

The assistant nodded.

“What have you to say, Hackett?” demanded the engineer.

“I say it’s a lie!” growled the fellow.  “I never saw this chap before he came into the engine-room.  He doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him.”

“You hear what Hackett has to say,” said the engineer, turning to Frank.

“I hear what this fellow has to say, but his name is not Hackett.”

“Is not?”

“No, no more than mine is Hackett.”

“Then what is his name?”

“His name is Harris!” asserted Merry, “and he is a gambler and a crook.  I’ll guarantee that he has not been long on the ‘Eagle.’”

“No; we took him on in New York scarcely two hours before we sailed.  We needed a man, and he applied for any kind of a job.  Found he had worked round machinery, and we took him as wiper and general assistant.”